


By Your Side

by Kayim



Category: The West Wing
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-03-10 04:47:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13495248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kayim/pseuds/Kayim
Summary: Or five times Sam Seaborn sat by Josh Lyman’s hospital bed, and one time the situation was reversed





	By Your Side

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Siluria for "date and drabble night" in which this was written, and to Misbegotten for catching the typos I kept missing.

1.  
Being drunk together in a bar wasn’t an unusual situation for Sam and Josh. They were in a small mid-western town just north of nowhere interesting, and Bartlett had performed another magnificent speech to an enthusiastic crowd of four people. Well, three if you exclude the drunk who’d stumbled in searching for a free drink. Leo had taken Bartlett back to the hotel, and an unspoken mutual agreement between Josh and Sam had led them to a bar.

If you’d asked either of them after the event how much they’d drunk, the answer would have been “not that much”, and Sam had matched Josh drink-for-drink throughout the night, so either someone had slipped something into Josh’s drinks, or something in his system had reacted badly with the alcohol.

Sam had phoned for the ambulance and climbed in the back next to the still-unconscious Josh. He tried to answer the questions from the paramedic, cursing himself when he realized exactly how little he knew about his supposed friend. Why didn’t he know Josh’s date of birth? Or if he had any allergies?

When Josh finally woke up, he had a headache that caused him to wince at every noise, and a drip attached to the back of his hand. He also had no idea where he was.

“You’re in the hospital,” Sam told him when he croaked out the question. He brought over a glass of water with a straw in it and held it close enough for Josh to take a few sips. “The doctors are saying it's alcohol poisoning.”

Josh looked at Sam as if studying him. “You look like shit.” His voice was still scratchy, which wasn’t a surprise considering he’d been either unconscious or asleep for more than 24 hours. He took another sip of the water, and stretched his non-drip-attached hand out.

Sam gripped it tightly in his own, and leaned over as Josh beckoned him closer.

“Never drinking with you again,” Josh whispered.

Sam choked on a laugh and appreciated the way Josh didn’t comment on the damp tear marks that he knew must be visible on his face. He squeezed Josh’s hand.

“You say that now, Lyman...”

 

 

2.  
For most of the West Wing staff, the world split into ‘before-Rosslyn’ and ‘after-Rosslyn’. Sam was no exception.

He’d never had anyone who might mean more to him than the job, not even Lisa, but when he was told to leave Josh in the hospital and go back to the White House, for a split second, he wanted to say “screw it”.

He didn’t, and the thought passed before he could even acknowledge it. But the second he could, he was back in the hospital, sitting opposite Donna, each of them holding tightly to one of Josh’s hands, neither of them speaking.

Sam couldn’t have told you how long he was there for, but when he eventually stood up, his legs felt like jelly and his head started spinning. He really didn’t care.

 

 

3.  
“It’s just a cold,” Josh muttered, although with the amount of drugs running through his system, it was a miracle he was still awake.

“It’s pneumonia,” Sam snapped. He kept his eyes firmly on the IV bag, watching as the antibiotics dripped through. He didn’t want to look at Josh.

“I’m fine.”

“You couldn’t breathe.” He knew he’d raised his voice too much when Josh flinched, but he couldn’t bring himself to apologize, and lowered his tone again. Damn Josh for being the only person who could make him lose control like this. “You ignored every symptom. You ignored Donna when she insisted you see the doctor. You outright _lied_ to me when I asked if you were taking any antibiotics. And you couldn’t breathe.”

Josh stretched out his hand. Sam was still too far away for him to reach, but he tried. Always over-reaching. Always pushing himself too far.

“I’m okay,” Josh said, his voice steady. “I promise.”

Sam stepped towards him and took the out-stretched hand as Josh yawned. At least his hand was warmer now, unlike earlier when it was cold and damp and Josh was struggling to catch his breath.

“I’m okay,” he repeated.

Sam pulled the chair alongside the bed and sat down. He brought Josh’s hand up to his lips, kissing it softly, and then reached up to brush his other hand across Josh’s cheek.

“Go to sleep,” he ordered with a soft smile. “But we’re talking about this again in the morning.”

 

 

4.  
After the grief he’d given the President, it seemed rather ironic that Josh would break his leg while riding a bike.

Sam was good enough not to bring up the reminder while Josh was having the cast put on his leg. The jokes started in the cab on the way back to Josh’s apartment and continued for more than a year.

Sam was the first person to sign the cast, albeit with a limerick so crude that Josh had to cover it up with black marker pen. There were times he hated Sam’s linguistic genius.

 

 

5.  
Sam had absolutely no sympathy this time around. He’d warned Josh more than once that he was getting too old to be running around like a teenager, but – as usual – he’d refused to listen.

“It’s just a friendly hockey game,” he’d insisted when he’d phoned Sam to tell him about his plans for the weekend. It was the third weekend in a row that Sam had been away, and Josh had wanted to get out of the apartment for a while. “Just a few of the guys getting together on the ice to knock a puck around.”

Less than three hours later, Sam was on a plane back from California.

“We think he’s okay, Mr. Seaborn,” the nurse told him. There was something wrong when the nurses in the hospital knew them by name. “But we need to keep him in overnight, just as a precaution.”

Sam dropped his bag in the corner of the darkened room. He was sorely tempted to wake Josh by shouting at him, but if it was a concussion, as the doctor believed, it wasn’t really fair.

The shouting could wait until they were back home tomorrow.

Instead, he climbed onto the bed, stretching himself out alongside Josh, and kissed him on the cheek.

“You damned idiot,” he whispered, although the tone of his voice was saying something very different.

 

 

+1.  
“You just had to steal the limelight. Was it not enough to know that you look unfairly stunning in that tuxedo?”

“You look pretty damn good yourself, Mr. Lyman.” Sam wasn’t lying. He’d seen Josh dressed up on more than one occasion and every time it had taken his breath away. This time, however, he could barely believe his luck. “I didn’t exactly trip over and fracture my wrist deliberately, you know.”

Josh slid his hand into the un-plastered hand, rubbing his thumb across the small gold band that now adorned Sam’s finger.

“If you hadn’t wanted to marry me, you could have just said.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Shut up and kiss me.”

With a smile, Josh leaned over to oblige. “Yes, sir, husband of mine.”


End file.
